‘Twas the Night Before Christmas…

Why have I spent the last two days cleaning my flat so I can go home to a house that is snowed under with duplicates and triplicates of things, because the old Gunpowder store is going through a refurb?

My last deadline of the year was eleven days ago. November (including part of my birthday) and December were spent as follows: toblerone and tea. We’ve since become firm friends.

I’ve had to forego a series of entries; the time simply hasn’t been there. And it would appear that my Christmas holidays have no intention of slowing down.

After my hand-in (with mulled wine and a mince pie upon submission! I like the way Edinburgh Uni works) I had an hour of sitting down on my sofa staring into space. It was nice. Almost luxurious. The knowledge alone of not having to pluck words from my mind and forge sentence after sentence was euphoric.

And then back to my ever-accumulating to-do list.

Hems of trousers. Cleaning.Hems of other trousers.Cleaning.

Christmas shopping.Tidying.Decorations. Tidying.

Upcoming project plans. Cleaning. Mind melting, melting, melting…

Because of how much goes on in my head, if the space around me isn’t clear, it is impossible to free my mind. Sadly, it has never worked the other way around, and as a result two days have completely disappeared. Actually, the entirety of the latter half of this year has disappeared and apparently its Christmas on Wednesday.

In other news, the design process of an impending photo-comic has officially begun, which I am beyond ecstatic for. Various clothes are being what I like to call ‘upgraded’, and that to-do list is a hell of a lot longer than anything else (I have a series of bags devoted to the damn things). A series of costumes are now a work-in-progress, and, fingers crossed, I will get back to my screenplay.